


Voluntary Incarceration

by goldentraveler



Category: Journey to Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Quiet, Slow Burn, Soft Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldentraveler/pseuds/goldentraveler
Summary: Following the events of the sequel trilogy (some light Episode IX speculation is included) Rey drops Ben Solo off on a prison planet, where he's meant to spend the rest of his life alone. But she finds it hard to leave.





	Voluntary Incarceration

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of new to this fandom, but I hope you enjoy :) Not sure how often I'll be able to update as I do writing-related stuff for my job as well, but I'll try to stay on top of this.

Well, he looked so lost, and I’d spent years on a prison planet before. Or as good as a prison planet—how you got there or why doesn’t much matter when there’s no chance of leaving on your own.

Voluntary incarceration, they called this, but it didn’t seem any less like the end of his world, not judging by the expression he wore. He’d been doing a lot of things voluntarily in the past while—there was Snoke, and all that chaos with the Order, and then everything that happened on Tatooine.

I still couldn’t bear to think about the rest of it—about Darth Sidious, and the things we did together, standing side by side, back to back.

I owed him this, I knew. To be the last face he saw before his self-imposed exile began. Before the planet I’d brought him to truly became a prison, an entire lonely world serving as his cell.

But I couldn’t just drop him and leave, not with him standing there, leaning against the bulkhead of my borrowed ship and staring out at the wide green beyond with a look on his face like nothing I’d ever seen before.

Regret. Resignation. Resolve.

And yes, still, underneath it all, a spark of fury. Always fury. That fire would never burn out.

“Ben,” I said quietly from beside him. “Here are your things. It’s time to go.”

It wasn’t much, not for an entire lifetime, at any rate. A speeder, its double seats a reminder of the companionship he’d never have. A grapple behind it, to tow the containment units the newly reestablished Galactic Senate had sent. What was in the containers, I didn’t know. But I could guess—some sort of assembly-line shelter, stark and impersonal and joyless, fit for keeping the weather out and not much else. Rations to last until a harvest of musk melons could be brought in. Grav-nets, for an easy catch of fish from any of the thousand glittering lakes we saw while flying overhead.

And of course, other more rudimentary things. Knives. Rope. Flint for fire-starting. All the sort of tools that could not fail. Blunt instruments, to keep alive the man who’d once served as a blunt instrument for the Order to wield against entire galaxies.

“Can I help you unload?” I offered.

He didn’t need my help. He’d needed it before, but not now. He could clear out the cargo hold with the motion of his hand and the force of his will alone.

But he nodded anyway, and I watched the fury in him die down to the barest spark.

“Thank you,” he said. Courteous. Closed off. Determined not to show weakness in the face of the decision he’d made.

Together we moved the containment units off the ship, one by one, carrying them between us, feeling the full weight of them. It was a way of slowing things down. Of making those final moments stretch out a little longer.

Last came the speeder. Ben gestured to it and I blinked. For a moment, I wondered. If I climbed into the pilot’s seat and left the safety of my own ship, would he change his mind and seal me out? Take control of the vessel I’d been sent on, seizing at freedom and leaving me behind in the prison that had been meant for him?

We’d come too far for doubt, though. Wordlessly, I lowered myself into the speeder and coaxed it out into the green meadow beyond the ship. I didn’t have to look back to see Ben following. I could feel him keeping pace with me. He was always there, in the back of my mind. And I wondered, would the bond between us fade as he grew used to the isolation, numb to the solitude?

“I looked over all the maps while we were on our way,” I said, taking Ben’s offered hand and trying not to think about the warmth of his touch as I climbed out of the speeder. “This seemed like the best place for you. There’s a lake, past those trees. You could clear the field just over there, for planting. And the weather patterns aren’t too bad up here—you should be alright to keep your shelter in the open, where you can see the stars.”

He gave me the ghost of a smile, his face still unused to the gesture. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

I couldn’t manage an answering smile, not even the ghost of one. “I tried. Are you going to be alright?”

Ben looked about us, taking a measure of the place I’d chosen, the meager supplies the Senate had sent. “I’ll live.”

I bit at my lip. “That’s not the same.”

“It’s what we do, though, isn’t it, Rey? We live, no matter what.”

“I suppose so.”

His eyes met mine, and the resolve in them was strongest now. “Goodbye, Rey.”

Ben turned to the waiting containers and opened the first, beginning the task of unpacking the metal rods and flex walls that would become a shelter. The parts lay colorless and lifeless on the grass.

“Goodbye, Ben,” I said, but my voice faltered on his name. Finn had been right. I shouldn’t have come alone. If I’d had someone with me, it might feel less like I was unraveling. But I’d have died before I let anyone else see Ben Solo this way, defeated and almost ordinary, with the new life he’d chosen in pieces around him.

I couldn’t bear it, and so I hurried back to the ship, slamming a hand against the panel to close the hatch. There was a grinding of metal and a whush of air as the hatch door shut. I watched Ben grow very still, crouched over the disassembled bits of his shelter. He thought, of course, that I was leaving. That I’d gone onboard, and in a moment his imprisonment would truly begin.

“I’m going to stay for a bit to help you get settled,” I said, the words coming out in a nervous rush.

Ben started at the sound of my voice, but didn’t turn to look at me.

“This isn’t a transfer from one Star Destroyer to another, Rey,” he said at last. “I’ve got time. I don’t need your help, and I know there are people waiting for you.”

I crossed the little meadow and sank to my knees before him, the open containment unit between us.

“I want to stay,” I said. “And I know you don’t need my help. But do you want me to stay, too?”

Ben glanced down at the scattered parts around us, a muscle working in his jaw. “I want you to fly away from this place without feeling burdened by the decisions I’ve made. Without feeling like there’s something pulling you back.”

I didn’t say what I knew to be true. That there would always, no matter where I went, no matter how much time passed, be something pulling me back to this planet so long as he remained on it.

“That’s not what I asked,” I said. “Ben, do you want me to stay?”

Silence.

“Don’t lie to me,” I begged. “Not now. Don’t let a lie be the last thing between us.”

When he looked up, I could see that fury burning hot behind his eyes. And I couldn’t help but burn in answer.

“Not for long,” Ben warned.

“Not for long,” I repeated.

Without another word, he handed me a spanner.


End file.
